


Burn the Evil Out of You

by hesterbyrde



Series: Wings Where We Had Shoulders [4]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blow Jobs, Consensual, Established Relationship, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mutilation, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Porn, References to Illness, Rough Sex, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 15:19:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12192456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hesterbyrde/pseuds/hesterbyrde
Summary: Beverly frowned at the news from Dr. Sutcliff as if it were an unruly child. “Well, you should get a second opinion.” she said, folding her arms tightly across her chest.“He was the second opinion.” Will replied, exasperated. "Hannibal was the first."“Another scan then. Another neurologist.” she pressed. "Let someone else take a look."“It’ll be the same. They’ll just be guessing.” Will buried his face in his hands. “Doctor Sutcliff said he wanted to do more tests but… I don’t know. I mean he’s the best. Dr. Lecter got me in to see the best, short of going to Johns Hopkins or something like that.""Maybe you should." Beverly suggested with a shrug.





	Burn the Evil Out of You

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings all!
> 
> I come with my offering for Hannibal Cre-ATE-ive's #EatTheRare. It's another installment of my Katz and Dogs series, "Wings Where We Had Shoulders." While it's not really necessary to have read the previous fics in the series, there is an established Friends-With-Benefits relationship going on that I've set up in the previous chapters.
> 
> This fic takes place during 1x10, and has some mild spoilers for that episode as well as the previous episodes in the season. 
> 
> This will likely be the last Will/Beverly chapter of this series, though I plan to dismount with a Beverly/Hannibal chapter. And this is definitely not my last Will/Bev fic ever. So stay tuned!
> 
> Many thanks to KaminaDuck for the beta read. Please let me know if you find any grammatical mistakes or misspellings. 
> 
> Enjoy and thanks for reading!

"The very fire of Hell is a fire of love. But it is a love that will burn the evil out of you." - George MacDonald

***

Beverly frowned at the news from Dr. Sutcliff as if it were an unruly child. “Well, you should get a second opinion.” she said, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

“He was the second opinion.” Will replied, exasperated. "Hannibal was the first."

“Another scan then. Another neurologist.” she pressed. "Let someone else take a look."

“It’ll be the same. They’ll just be guessing.” Will buried his face in his hands. “Doctor Sutcliff said he wanted to do more tests but… I don’t know. I mean he’s the best. Dr. Lecter got me in to see the best, short of going to Johns Hopkins or something like that."

"Maybe you should." Beverly suggested with a shrug.

"Or maybe I should go ahead and face facts. Maybe he’s right. What if he's right?” He'd been pacing feverishly, but stopped to face her as he asked the question.

Beverly took a slow, steadying breath and dared to sidle closer. A month ago she would have never dared invade Will's space like this. “You really don’t believe that though, do you?” she asked, her voice soft at the edges.

Will looked up at her, his blue eyes brimming with sullen fear, but he didn't back away. “Is it a matter of belief? The scans showed nothing.”

“At this point, it might still be. Here's what I say.” Beverly gingerly laid an arm around him. “I say let Dr. Sutcliff do his thing and see what turns up. And whatever it turns up, whether it's nothing or something, you go ask someone else to have a look too. It’s science. If he’s right, someone else should be able to produce similar results.”

After a moment's consideration Will finally nodded, wiping a hand across his forehead.

Beverly squinted at him, inquisitive eyes following the motion. “You feel alright now?”

He shook his head tersely. “Headaches. Have ‘em all the time.”

"Well… that's definitely not nothing." she opined, her tone still careful. "Especially after… well, what happened at the crime scene and the memory lapses you told me about. They'll find something for sure."

"You sound so sure." Will said, his voice small.

"Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"Dr. Lecter thinks the scans and tests are all a waste of time. He's humoring me. He said he thinks what's wrong isn't physiological. He thinks…" he paused for a breath, clearly weighing his next words. " He thinks it's stress from work. From doing… this." He waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the crime scene photos of Beth LeBeau that were pinned to the corkboard on the far wall.

Beverly considered it for a moment and then gave a small shrug. "He might not be entirely wrong. No matter what the tests and scans say. Stress never fails to make bad situations worse. Especially where health is concerned. I mean… didn't you try to quit not too long ago? Any reason it didn't stick?"

Will cut her a coldly meaningful look. "You know why it didn't stick."

"Agent Crawford." she breathed, her eyes darting around as if speaking his name aloud was enough to summon him. "Will you quit if it turns out the stress is causing this?"

Will answered with only a resigned shrug that was more sigh than definitive response.

Beverly pressed her lips together. She could feel the line of pushing too far approaching. The point where Will would clam up altogether and stop talking. She didn't want to get near that line. Not when he was finally starting to open up to her about this.

Instead she reached her arm further around him and pulled him into a hug, feeling the tension slip from his body as he did little more than lean against her. And she noticed something then. His skin was damp through his clothes, and he felt flushed and hot even though his face was pale.

She pulled back and frowned at him. "Hey, are you running a fever?"

"Might be." came the weak answer.

Beverly pressed her wrist to her own forehead and then to his. Sure enough, Will was burning up.

"I think you might be." she said with a concerned frown. "Come on, I'll get you home."

"My home or yours?" Will asked, his eyes flicking up to meet hers. He looked so hollowed out and tired, but there was a glimmer of hope for a specific answer.

Beverly paused, giving him a gently appraising look. "Which would you prefer?" she baited.

"Whatever you think is best." came the resigned reply. "I'd probably be terrible company anyway. And I'd get you sick."

That was answer enough for her. "I've had my flu shot since last time." she said, pulling him after her with a smirk. "Come on. There's aspirin in my locker."

***

Will was already feeling better by the time they arrived at Bev's apartment. He'd swallowed the aspirin dry and they were working on the fever as well as his stomach lining. 

Peanut, the curly-eared corgi mix, was overjoyed at seeing Will again, eagerly jumping on him to lick the sweat from his face. Will set down his overnight bag and gathered her up in his arms, scruffing his fingers through her golden fur and speaking to her in a soft, sweet voice. In her exuberance, Peanut knocked his glasses off his face.

And Will was smiling, Beverly noticed. He still looked like absolute shit, but he was smiling at least through the clammy skin and dark circles. He just looked like he had the flu now. Not a pending brain cancer diagnosis.

She picked up his bag with an over-dramatic huff. "When you two are finished cheating on me with each other, Will you can have the shower. I'll toss your stuff in the washer to go overnight."

Will nodded, not looking up at her. "Thanks, Beverly." he said, smiling though mostly at Peanut.

"It's the least I could do."

"No, it isn't, and you know it." Will replied, setting Peanut down and dusting the dog fur from his clothes without much success. "I'm possibly going crazy, and I also might have the flu. And you work harder than any of us. You deserve to get some rest. You shouldn't have invited me over."

"There's no proof you're any crazier than the rest of us, and like I said. I've already had my flu shot." Beverly folded her arms and gave him her classic "Don't argue with me" pose. "Besides. You're my friend. What are friends for?"

Will cut her a strange look, made all the stranger by the hollowed out smudges under his eyes. "Is… that what we're still calling this?"

Beverly shrugged and looked away, worried she had crossed the line without meaning to. "Not really sure what to call it." she answered candidly. "I don't like seeing you sad and lonely, and I don't want you to feel like you've got nobody. Because that's not the case."

Will gave a nod like he wasn't quite convinced.

Beverly elbowed him. "Cheer up. You're not a charity case. Peanut is the only charity case here. I like you. You're my friend. You're the person I go to when I need help puzzling something out. And I'm who you come to when you need someone to talk to that doesn't raise your hackles."

He nodded again, this time with a little more surety. "Thanks, Beverly." he repeated. 

"You're welcome." she replied. "Shower. Now. Before you start dripping on my hardwood."

***

When Will emerged from the shower wrapped in a Bugs Bunny towel, he was already feeling better. Between the aspirin and the rapidly evaporating steam, whatever fever he'd been dealing with had faded for now. Beverly was waiting for him, perched on her bed cross-legged and already changed into her pajamas. Also Bugs Bunny print, he noticed.

"Feel better?" she asked, cocking her head.

Will nodded, only looking at her in the edges of his vision. "Shower's yours."

"I'll take one in the morning." she replied, setting her phone on the nightstand.

"I'll… go take the couch then? I guess."

"Only if you want to." she said. "And I may not have your powers of mad empathy, but I get the feeling from your tone of voice that you don't want to."

He shook his head. "Nightmares have been getting worse though. Don't want to be more of an imposition than I already have been."

"You haven't been. Zero times anything is still zero." She stretched out her hand and beckoned to him. "C'mere."

He slunk closer, head still drooping. When he was in reach Beverly hooked her fingers in the knot of the towel and tugged him closer. "This alright?" she asked looking up at him. The light from the bathroom cast him into silhouette making it difficult to determine his expression. "We don't have to do anything. I understand if you're not feeling up to it."

Will gave a small snort of amusement. "I've been feeling like garbage for weeks. Hasn't stopped us yet. Though I can't…" he trailed off.

"Can't what?" she pressed, her fingers wandering along the edges of the towel and tracing the curve of his ass.

"Can't see what you see in it. In me." he muttered. 

"You're being ridiculous. And you know it." she answered shaking her head. "So I'm just going to pretend it's the fever talking for now."

He snorted, a smile stretching his face. "I know. Distract me? Please."

She grinned up at him. "It would be my pleasure."

Beverly gave the towel a smart tug and it slipped to the floor. Will was already half hard at the prospect, so clearly he wasn't feeling too bad off. She unfolded her legs and pulled him to stand between her knees, his cock thickening before her right at eye level. She gave it an encouraging lick, swiping the flat of her tongue across the swelling head. Will let out a soft, strangled sound as his head fell back. 

Beverly smirked to herself before setting to work in earnest. She sucked him down in a long, even pull, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn't completely hard and swallowing him down to the root. He groaned when the head of his cock bumped against the back of her throat, feeling the slick convulsion around him. She would have smiled at the sound, but her lips were otherwise engaged.

As she pulled back for another long, familiar suck, Will tangled his hands into the strands of her hair. The headaches… the worries… they suddenly seemed too far away to grasp. Like Beverly could chase them away just with her presence. Just by being there and coaxing normalcy from him.

This was normal right? 

"You don't have to do this." He heard himself traitorously say.

She pulled off, the hot suction of her mouth replaced with the steady pressure of a loose fist pumping around his shaft. "I know." she answered, licking the bead of precum she'd worked up. "Maybe this makes me a tart, but I enjoy doing this. With you in particular, as a point of fact. This isn't a pity-fuck, Will. Put it out of your mind if that's what's bothering you."

"Are you sure it's not?" Will asked, staring down at her, his face shadowed.

"Absolutely." came the forthright answer. "I don't do pity sex. I do make-it-better sex. I make a great distraction." She gave a little twist of her wrist on the next downstroke to emphasize her point. "But I'm not fucking you because I think you're a charity case."

"You're the only one that doesn't think I'm a charity case." Will muttered, unable to keep himself from idly thrusting against her palm. "Well, except for Jack."

"He could use a little charity when it comes to thinking about you." Beverly bit back. "Tell me what you want, Will. I promise I'm game." She leaned back on the bed enticing him to follow her.

And he did, communicating with his body at least, fitting himself down between her spread thighs and rubbing his length against the wet patch already forming on her panties. As he rutted against her, she spread her legs wider in response, catching his rhythm and letting a thin, breathy moan escape her.

That sound seemed to unhinge something feral in Will. He roughly reached down, pushed her panties aside and thrust into the tight heat of her body. Beverly bowed up off the bed with a thin cry, hooking her ankles together behind him to keep him from withdrawing.

Will drew back just enough to see her face, his worry that in the hasty haze of his desire he'd hurt her was painted plainly on his features. She gave an alleviating smile, cupping the back of his head, sinking her fingers into his soaked curls and pulling him down for a kiss that was mostly teeth and desperation.

He began thrusting in earnest then, beginning with long rolls of his hips that eventually gave way to pistoning strokes that tore needy, wanton moans from Beverly's throat. He stared down at her as he worked, watching intently as she lost herself in the sensation.

Will believed her then. Believed that she wasn't just here for his sake. That she wanted this. It wasn't love. And it wasn't just lust either. It was somewhere in that oft favored gray area. It was their favored hideout.

"What?" Beverly asked, smirking up at him before another thrust sent her eyes rolling back in her head.

Will slowed for a moment, still taking her in. Still clothed, while he was naked and bowed over her. Different from their last few encounters. But they never seemed terribly good at waiting until all their clothes were off. In the end, Will just shook his head. Words failed him, not helped by the fact that he was still thrusting into the tight clutch of her body with wild abandon.

He slid one hand under her knee, pushing her leg over his shoulder to sharply change the angle. She sucked in a breath and let it out again is a concussive shout as the next thrust pushed all the air out of her body.

"Good?"

She could only nod, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. 

Will couldn't bear the thought of her silencing herself. He leaned down and captured her mouth in his, sucking her bottom lip into his own mouth and worrying it as he pounded into her. Every moan, gasp, and cry he swallowed down as he plowed into her, their ecstasy rising in tandem as they crashed together.

Beverly came first, arching up off the bed, her nails clawing into whatever parts of Will she could reach. And as her body seized around him, Will's orgasm rippled out under his skin, nearly shaking him apart with the scalding force of it.

Will stared down at her as they came down together, both of them panting for breath and shivering. Beverly's formerly grasping, clawing hands turned gentle, tracing the lines of the muscles in his shoulders as they enjoyed the fizzing afterglow. After a little while, Will noticed that she was studying the look on his face with a pinched expression.

"Don't apologize." she finally said. 

"I hadn't decided if I was going to." Will answered, rolling off of her gracelessly to curl against her side.

"I decided for you." she said, giving a little cat-like stretch. "That was amazing."

"I had intended to last a little longer." Will shrugged. 

Beverly snorted. "That's something only college kids worry about. I came… you came… And since you're staying, there's always tomorrow morning. Sex is supposed to be good for the immune system."

Will smiled his tired smile and nodded.

"You feeling better?" Beverly asked, rolling to face him. The lights from the window fell across her face in golden sheaves.

Will nodded again. "A little clearer headed at least."

"Increased blood flow will do that." Beverly said, leaning down to kiss him. "Come on. Bedtime for both of us. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow."

***

It was hot inside the FBI lab. The air felt humid and stagnant, and Will could feel the sweat trickling down between his shoulder blades and making his hair stick to his face. Everything was hot. Too hot, and too close. Especially down in the slab room. 

It shouldn't be hot down here...

He cast his eyes around. He could hear people but there was no one here just now. Just the body of Beth LeBeau left out in the air, her mangled face grinning up at him from the metal table. Her blood dripped over the sides and down onto the cold tile floor with a thick, dispassionate dribbling sound. 

He didn't have any answers on this one he remembered, and the attendant guilt surged through him at the thought. His head buzzed with the static of a thousand insectoid wings, and he pressed his hands to his temples to try and get it to stop. He felt a sticky squish under his palms and pulled his hands away suddenly realizing they were slick with blood. 

And his boning knife was in his hand...

"Will?" 

He dropped the knife and turned to see the FBI science team standing behind him as if conjured out of thin air. Zeller and Price… and Beverly, all standing with arms folded waiting for him. Will tried to tell them he was at a loss. He didn't know who did this or why… but words were locked in a far off cabinet of his mind. All he could think about was how hot it was in here, and how guilty he felt...

Zeller stepped forward, patting him gently on the arm with his smile that was a mix of smug superiority and just a little bit of pity. Clownishly, the grin split his face… further, and further… until he was grinning like a mirror image of Beth LeBeau. All teeth and slick cheeks and blood slopping down his front.

Will turned, Jimmy and Beverly were smiling at him too, their eyes fever bright and their mouths split impossibly wide into ghoulish Glasgow grins. He stumbled back as they approached, slipping treacherously in the blood pooling on the floor. He couldn't run. He could only slip and scramble towards the waiting window, though it was too tall to climb out of on his own.

As if on cue, a dark shape appeared in the window. A hulking shadow that blocked the humid sunlight streaming in. It smashed the glass, revealing itself to be the feathered stag, bending its antlered head and offering to pull will out. Which he took, with desperate fervor, grasping the sharp horns and letting himself be tugged free. Will could feel its hot breath and the slick of its tongue as it licked at his bloodstained face...

***

Beverly woke up while it was still very dark. The only light in the room came from the window, the glow of the street light cutting through the blinds to illuminate the empty space in the bed beside her. Still half in the clutch of sleep, she reached her hand out instinctively, finding the sheets sodden and cold.

She blinked hard and sat up. "Will?" she said, her voice raspy. She swallowed and tried again. "Will?"

No answer. And Peanut was gone too, she realized sluggishly.

She padded out into the living room, carefully avoiding the squeaky board in the hall, and there she found Will sitting slumped on the couch with Peanut at his feet. She was reared up with her forepaws on his knee licking exuberantly at the sweat on his pallid face.

He was soaked, she noted. Like he had been swimming. He'd sweated right through his clothes because of the fever.

"Will?" she said again softly. "Will can you hear me?" As she rounded the couch to face him, she could see his eyes working feverishly under his half closed lids. She sighed, feeling herself at a loss. If it wasn't something whiskey and aspirin couldn't fix, she didn't know what to do. Not when it was a live person anyway.

She settled for flipping on the ceiling fan and guiding Will down on the couch. He went easily, and his skin under her hand was scalding hot.

"I could fry an egg on you if I wanted…" she muttered to herself.

Peanut jumped up next to him, turned twice in a tight circle behind his knees and laid down. Beverly's face pulled in an involuntary grin. "I guess you can be on the couch just this once, since you're playing nursemaid. But don't get used to it."

Peanut's long pink tongue lolled out in response.

Beverly let herself have one more check of his fever by passing a hand over his forehead. He was still burning up, but the fitful rapid eye movements seemed to have subsided. She nodded to herself, satisfied that she'd done all she could, even though it wasn't much. She fetched a glass of water and some more aspirin for Will and set them on the coffee table and then wandered off to see if she still had any of those vitamin C tablets in her medicine cabinet. 

Even if this was the flu, she suddenly felt desperate to swing the odds further in her favor.

***

Will was still lost in his dream, but now that he was outside, he could feel a cool breeze buffeting his face. He'd emerged onto the banks of a wide stream and the stag stood tall behind him. He could feel the heat of its presence on his back and see the long shadow it cast, which melded with his own. But the stream called to him. The open space and babbling water. He started jogging towards it, his newly liberated limbs carrying him with astonishing speed. 

And he could hear hoofbeats behind him.

He wasn't sure if he was being chased, herded, or merely followed.

***


End file.
